I Got My Heart Right Here
by McInstry
Summary: "Most people wouldn't be able to forgive what I did. Especially not after everything you went through to get to my full Time Lord self." -He's in awe of her ability to forgive him . - Sequel to 'It's Not a Game'


Author's Notes: This is the LONG awaited sequel to It's Not a Game. A huge thank you goes out to **jer832**for helping me out so much with this one. She was invaluable.

It's my birthday today, and I'm ill. A little love wouldn't be turned away. It may even make my migraine go away. :)

* * *

It's been a week since the incident. Rose has been the most attentive and gentle he's ever known her to be. Every night she holds him, and every morning she gives him a kiss that wakes up every inch of his body. He can't even begin to understand how he's come to deserve her. What has he done to warrant such tenderness and care?

But he… he hasn't been the most generous of partners. He can see her suffering from the abandonment his full Time Lord counterpart had inflicted upon her, but he isn't sure how to react. He holds her, but she never cries. Well, she hasn't since the night of the incident. Rose is staying strong for him, and while he appreciates it, he wishes she would lean on him.

But he knows he hasn't really done anything to justify such trust. He went off and slept with someone else and came back to her a mess. All of his actions since he's entered this universe have been thoughtless; he's acted like more of a child than an equal. And while a certain extent of confusion would be acceptable, he's become completely reliant on Rose's vast emotional support. He had been dependent on her as a Time Lord, too. But he'd been better at hiding it then. Now everything is out in the open, and Rose knows how weak he really is.

Why would Rose put her faith in him when he can't even make it through a day without almost breaking down? He feels new and numb and raw; the loss of his universe and the TARDIS affecting him deeply. But that's no excuse. He's done nothing to show her he can look after her.

And now, as she walks into the kitchen laden with bags from the market, he wonders what he can do.

He helps her unpack the food, sampling the strawberries with an eager tongue. There are fresh cheeses and more fruits and fish and spices; all homegrown and beautiful. The scents of them are lovely, and an idea comes to him.

He's always been a fair cook. Maybe he can cook for her. It'd be a small thing, but it would be something. As she turns back around, her teeth biting into a strawberry, he wonders how he can get her to comply to let him use her kitchen.

"Rose… you look a bit tired." He winces as soon as those words exit his mouth. He remembers from his time as a Time Lord that such comments were not appreciated by a majority of the female masses, species be damned. Thankfully, Rose only raises an eyebrow.

"I feel fine."

"That's good… I just kind of want to make dinner tonight." Rose has gone back to putting things away.

"It's alright, I've got it." She's unwrapping the fish from its paper and getting out a knife. He moves up behind her and stops her from opening the drawer.

"Just go relax, yeah?" He hopes she gives in. He wants to do this for her.

But, just like always, Rose sees right through him. "You don't need to prove yourself to me," she says quietly, leaning a hand on his chest. He catches it and pulls it to his lips.

"Yeah, I kind of do." Rose shakes her head, but he hushes her. "I know I'm useless right now, and that's not fair to you. You've lost things too. You lost _him_, the other universe, the stars, Mickey…" He stops listing when he sees tears well up in her eyes. He tries to reach for her, but she turns her head away and takes a deep breath. "And I'm so sorry. I just… I love you. Let me do this for you? Let me at least try to repay you?"

Rose sniffs and meets his eyes. "I love you, too, Doctor. And because I love you, helping you isn't a chore. It's nothing that you need to repay."

He feels about ready to cry, too, because he's never had anyone _want_ to watch over him before. "Then let me take care of you in kind. Let me show you that I love you through little things because you do it every time you look at me." Rose gives him a tremulous, watery smile and nods. She stands on her tippy toes and kisses him in that special way she does. He responds and strokes her hair, pulling away before he can get too caught up in her. "Go, relax." She nods again and goes to the icebox to open a bottle of Merlot. She pours herself a large glass and leaves for the bathtub after giving him a parting glance.

He turns back to the counter and is faced with the food and hundreds of possibilities.

Oh, he so hopes this body remembers how to cook well.

* * *

When the fish is simmering in the tomatoes and herbs, he grabs the bottle of wine Rose opened and an empty glass and takes it to the bathroom. He knocks first, unsure of whether she'll let him in since she's naked in the bath. She voices her assent, and he opens the door to a sight that takes the breath right out of his lungs.

There's Rose, looking beautiful. Her hair is up in a loose knot and a few strands are wet from the bubbly bathwater. A few candles light the room along with the paling sunlight from the huge window behind the claw-footed tub. It makes the wetness of Rose's visible skin even more ravishing. The room smells like lavender and is heavy with moisture from her bath. Her lips are red from the wine which, he notes, she's drunk all of.

He swallows and motions to the bottle. "Top off?" Rose nods and he pours her and himself a glass. He pulls up the chair in the corner of the room, hanging Rose's discarded robe over the back of it. Once he sits, he takes a sip of his wine. It's a good full-bodied red, full of tannins and alcohol which soothes his nerves.

"What's for supper?" Rose is swishing her glass like a regular connoisseur and lifting her foot from the water to play with the cool porcelain of the tub.

"Tomato herb fish and vodka orzo with parmesan," he answers, attempting not to be distracted by the sight of more of her dewy skin.

Rose smiles. "Sounds lovely."

"I hope." He sips more of his wine, shifting the glass from his left hand to his right. His free hand dips into the bath and is immediately covered in bubbles. The water is warm and he imagines what it would be like to crawl in and cuddle Rose against him with the water cradling them both. He tightens his fist; maybe later, but for now he just wants to observe her.

Rose catches his hand, smiling at the startled look on his face. He'd been zoning out, it seems. He smiles back at her and she takes his hand and holds it over her heart. The skin beneath his palm is wet, and he can feel every beat of her heart distinctly. He strokes her skin with his thumb, relishing the happy sigh Rose lets out. She cranes her neck, and he meets her halfway.

Their kiss is warm with human heat and alcohol. She tastes like everything he's ever wanted, and it makes his single heart pound a bit faster.

They pull apart slowly, him breathing deeply, and her sinking back into the water. He watches her tilt her head back and hum to herself. He's enraptured. The sun is setting farther below the skyline, turning a deep purple color. The candles seem to glow brighter with the waning sun.

Just as he's about to speak, Rose snaps her fingers, and the lights turn on lowly. He feels his confidence evaporate.

He clenches his fist, wondering why he's such a coward now. He had been one even back in his full Time Lord body. Maybe it was just something coded into this regeneration.

"Why am I still here?" he blurts. Ooh, that does _not_ sound at all the way he wanted it to sound.

But Rose doesn't get angry at him. She shrugs and looks him right in the eye.

"Why are you?"

His mouth opens and closes several times before he finally speaks. "I have nowhere else," he admits quietly. Rose nods, and he goes on, realizing how bad that statement sounded, "and I love you."

Rose nods again and smiles at him. "That's why you're still here. You love me despite what you did. And I love you as well."

He shakes his head, baffled and a bit in awe. "Most people wouldn't be able to forgive what I did. Especially not after everything you went through to get to my full Time Lord self."

Rose finally looks a bit affected. She turns away, chin tucking into shoulder. When she speaks her voice is heavy. "I did put everything I had into getting back to _you_. I spent years trying to find a crack between our universes so I could just see you and hear you finish that damn sentence." Rose looks at him suddenly, her eyes damp as she pulls her knees up to her chest. She looks very small and young, and he dislikes that he's made her feel that way. "But because I spent all that time trying to get back to you, I'm not ready to let you go for anything." She gives a sardonic chuckle, tilting her head back once more. "I suppose that makes me a bit of a pushover, but I don't care."

He puts his glass on the ground floor the chair and kneels beside of the tub. "I don't deserve you." He reaches for her opposite cheek, cupping her face gently. He wants to force her to look at him, but he doesn't make a move to. "I adore you, Rose. You already know that. And you also know that I'm sorry because I've said it so many times, but I'll say it again." She finally turns towards him and he rejoices internally.

"I'm sorry."

Rose nods once, a quick jerk of her head, and tilts her face into his hand.

He just stares at her, eyes searching her face and gliding over her wet skin. He feels very calm.

He gets to his feet after kissing Rose's forehead, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers.

"The food should be ready soon." She nods and says she'll be out in a minute.

* * *

The food is plated and he sets out a bottle of a much lighter wine that will complement the meal. As he's lighting a candle, he hears Rose padding in. He looks up and smiles at the sight of her. She's just wearing black sweats and a white t-shirt, but she looks phenomenal. The flame from the match burns his finger and he hisses. He shakes off the pain and moves to Rose's side. She catches his hand and kisses his stinging finger before kissing his lips. He responds eagerly, his free hand moving to the small of her back. One of Rose's warm hands sneaks under his t-shirt, and she grips his waist gently, anchoring him to her.

As if he'd go anywhere.

He pulls back, breathing heavily. "I love you." Rose smiles at him brightly and whispers those words back to him. As content as he would be to stand there for hours, simply holding her and kissing her, he wants them to enjoy the food he worked hard on while it's still hot.

He shuffles Rose to her seat, pouring her a glass of wine before sitting down himself. They both dig into their meals eagerly. The wine is drunk at a slow pace and, even as they eat, the two can't stop touching one another. Fingers are twined, hands stroke, and forkfuls of food are offered to the other.

Aside from the sounds of eating and drinking, their meal passes with a quietness that he had thought himself incapable of. But oddly enough, he enjoys it. It lets all of his other senses focus on Rose and aspects of her he usually misses. For all he watches her, he's never noticed the way she chews or sips with her bottom lip lightly pouting against the glass. It's all so intoxicating.

He stops drinking the wine, favoring water instead so that he can be fully lucid for the rest of the night. This body is still so sensitive to alcohol and just a few glasses pull him under a fuzzy veil.

Rose notices him push away his wine and does the same, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. He watches her, enamored. She offers him the glass and he drinks from the same spot as she had. The taste of her chapstick clings to the glass and transfers to his lips. He licks off the mango flavor and watches her watch him.

"Dinner was lovely," Rose speaks, her voice low to match the atmosphere they've created.

He smiles at her. "I'm glad." Her bright eyes remain on him and he begins to feel a bit unnerved.

"I want to make love with you," Rose says suddenly, her gaze finally darting from his. "But only if you're ready," she adds when his breath halts quite noticeably.

He feels a warmth flutter in his heart that Rose, his Rose, wants him this way even after everything. "I'd like nothing more."

She smiles back at him, offering him her hand. He stands and follows her, content to leave the dishes for tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Who knows when they're going to leave bed.

They stop at the foot of their bed and Rose reaches and pulls his t-shirt over his head. She hastily removes her own, showing him that they're going to be equals with each step they take in this new area of their relationship.

His breath catches in that way that it normally does when he's around her. She's soft and pink and there aren't bubbles covering her now. No, instead there's a baby blue bra with brown stars and stitching. Rose looks down to where he's looking and blushes.

"It's my comfort bra. It reminded me of you." Her voice is quiet, but he hears her just fine. It warms him in some indefinable place that something so… _intimately attached_ to her body reminds her of him. That she has a cute little bra with his colors on them, cupping her beautiful breasts, and so close to her heart… Oh, he's most definitely turned on. And more than that, he's never loved anything more than he loves her at this very moment.

He ducks forward and kisses her hard, hands cradling her face. "I _love _you," he breathes, so intent on putting every bit of that emotion into his voice.

"I love you, too." Rose rocks onto her tippy-toes, the soft cottony material of her bra brushing his chest as she presses kisses to his jaw. "I love you so much." Her breath is hot and sweet on his face. He turns his head, leaning down so he can rest his cheek against her temple. The warmth of Rose settles right into his core, making him feel gooey and young.

He pulls her even closer, wanting to feel her _right up against him_. The softness of her breasts is muffled by that cute little bra, and, as much as he likes it, he wants it off of her _right now_. He trails a hand up her thigh, over the swell of her arse, draped in those soft, fitted sweats, and up her soft, warm-skinned back. His fingers hitch into her bra, and he unhooks it deftly.

Rose pulls back just enough to shrug it off of her body and cast it aside. He wants to look at her, to see parts of her he's never seen, but she moves back against him. Her nipples are pebbled and he wants to push her onto the bed and suckle them. Instead he circles his arms around her, one a tight band about her lower back and the other cupping behind her head protectively. She returns his embrace just as strongly with her arms reaching around his arms and gripping his shoulders.

Rose kisses his collarbone, and he nuzzles her hair, spreading his long fingers through the now natural-colored locks. Their embrace is just as intimate as kissing because hugging – for them, at least – has always been about comfort and closeness. And they are close now, so close that he can taste her in the air he breathes in.

A light nip at his throat has him looking down at her. She's smiling at him and he smiles back, soothed by the comfortable atmosphere that surrounds them.

Rose uses his shoulders to help her stand taller and laps at his bottom lip once. "I love this lip," she says, punctuating her statement with a nibble to said lip.

His eyebrow raises just the slightest bit. "Just that one?" he teases.

"Oh, they're both lovely…." Rose makes a sound like a low, feminine growl before kissing him fiercely. His fingers tighten in her hair but she pulls away before he can really reciprocate. "But that one is just delicious."

He doesn't really know what to say to that, so he kisses her again. She responds eagerly, hands lightly touching his back and chest as their tongues duel. When one of her hands dips lower, right into his jeans to squeeze his bum, his hips convulsively thrust into her. He can feel her lips curve and she pulls back, smiling at him teasingly.

"I love your bum, too," Rose confesses.

"That's good," he says somewhat hoarsely.

She nods and moves her hands to the front of his jeans. His stomach muscles jump at her playful little brushes while she unbuttons his jeans. He moves his shaking hands to her sweats, slipping a finger under the hem to feel the softness of them. Rose's hand stills his, and she pushes her sweats down her legs, shimmying cutely. He kicks off his jeans hastily, tripping over his own feet and just being generally uncoordinated. Rose reaches behind him, squeezes his bum once more, and strokes his legs with a sure hand.

He feels a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way. Not like before. He feels content; the hands touching him are Rose's and the scent that envelopes him is hers. This is where he's meant to be.

Rose takes control, pushing him onto the bed but giving him time to escape. He doesn't move and Rose smiles, placing a knee on the bed and pressing kisses to his chest. His fingers catch in her hair and he closes his eyes, feeling so completely loved by the beautiful woman before him. Her hands stroke his arms and shoulders and chest as her kisses go lower.

When Rose's kisses meet the fabric of his boxers, she tugs them playfully and looks up at him, questioning. He nods, raising his hip to help her get them off. Rose lays wet kisses on his right hipbone, her hair playing against his aching groin. He licks his dry lips and shudders as Rose's kisses go closer to his erection. The second her hot tongue flicks against the head of his cock, he all but jumps.

"Rose!" She looks up at him, gauging whether his exclamation was good or bad. He himself can't decide whether her actions were good or bad. Rose seems to understand this and she nuzzles his skin with her soft lips, exhaling against him softly.

"Shhh," she hushes him, "let me."

Rose repeats her actions slowly, lapping at him with her tongue. Her touches aren't teasing, they're merely getting a feel for whether he wants her to continue or not. And he does. Oh, he really does. He's never felt anything like her mouth on him and all he knows is he wants more. But it is an awfully selfish wish.

He squirms beneath her touch, remembering how he'd told her his first experience in this body had been awful. And while this would more than make him forget that it had ever transpired, he didn't want her doing something she didn't want to.

"Rose," he urges, "you really don't have to."

She looks up at him, all hazel eyes and pink lips, and he groans, wondering if this is some sort of test or something.

"I know." Rose pauses, her gaze aimed somewhere around his chin. "Do you not want me to?"

"No!" His hasty exclamation makes her jump a bit and he calms down immediately. "No, I'd love for you to… But only if you want to."

Rose smiles at him and kisses his hipbone. "I want to."

He smiles back, both relieved and extremely turned on. "Okay."

Rose moves from his hipbone to the base of his cock. She presses wet little kisses there, lapping at his skin. One of his hands curls in the sheets, the other moves to push Rose's hair back. He watches her with eager eyes as she uses her tongue to please him. It's once she encloses him in her mouth that he can't keep his eyes open any longer.

It's so hot, the inside of her mouth is, and he loves it more than words can describe. Her tongue is playful, swirling around the head of his cock. He groans; this pleasurable torture is almost more than he take. The tightness in his groin becomes worse when Rose makes this little humming noise around him. That's just… God! That should be illegal.

And then he's coming. He revels in it – in the sensation that nearly leaves him blind and dazed. Rassilon this – this is what it feels like to be human!

Then he remembers Rose.

She's looking up at him, and that makes him feel even worse. His… his _come_ is on her chin and dripping down to that place between her breasts, and for a flash second, he likes the sight before him. Then immense shame washes over him that makes him forget all about that.

"Sorry!" He gasps out, looking down at her with wide eyes full of mortification. "Sorry, sorry!" He sits up hastily and reaches for his discarded t-shirt.

Rose takes it from him and cleans herself off before crawling up to him. He begins to reach for her, but stops, unsure of whether she will want him to. Is she disgusted? Angry?

She should be. He…. Rassilon, how selfish was he?

"I'm sorry," he whispers, closing his eyes against the faint bite of tears he feels at the back of his eyes. He can't even get this right.

"It's fine." He hides his face in her neck and shakes his head, doggedly ignoring her protests like a little boy would. "Hey," Rose grasps his chin and turns his face to her, "it really is okay."

"No it's not." His voice is petulant and he pulls back

"Look at me." Rose's voice is demanding, and he has no choice but to obey. His eyes dart to hers before he looks away once more. "Doctor, look at me."

The fact that she calls him 'Doctor' makes him want to curl up into her. He's messed up in so many ways that his full Time Lord counterpart never has. To know that she still correlated him - the fantastical screw-up- with being that god-like being just made him tear up.

"Doctor," Rose coos, "I'm not mad. It was a little unexpected, yeah, but not bad." He looked at her with disbelieving eyes. "It really wasn't." He still looks at her like she's crazy, but she merely smiles and kisses his temple. She holds him close and he burrows against her.

"What pleases you?" he asks in a quiet voice.

Rose tightens her hold on him. "That doesn't matter right now." She kisses his hair, and her hands soothe over his skin.

"No, I want you to _tell me_ what you want – what you like." He backs off and calms himself, wondering if he's being too pushy. "What pleases you?"

He _wants_ to please her. He wants to make her happy because that is his goal in life now. He no longer has the stars or worlds to save. But he does have Rose, and he's going to do whatever he can to make sure he deserves her at every moment of every day.

"You don't have to make up for anything," Rose reminds him. He still disagrees with her, especially after he just came all over her without permission like some stupid teenage boy.

"I do," he protests. "I just… I keep messing this up," he reaches for her hand and kisses it and holds it against his cheek, "I want to make you happy. And not just in the bedroom. Everywhere. I want you to never have troubles or worries or anything."

Rose gives him a watery smile. "That's love, my sweet man. But you can't do that. You can't wrap me up in wool just as I can't do that to you no matter how much I want to." She lifts his hand and kisses it just as he had done to her. "But we can make each other smile."

He nods in agreement and leans forward to kiss her lightly. "I like making you smile." She smiles. "But I also want you to be satisfied because this body is clearly a little trigger-happy." The last part is said in a somewhat rueful tone and she simply shakes her head.

"It'll just take a bit of practice." Rose strokes his hair and kisses his forehead.

"Help me? Show me how you like to be touched." He's restless, eager to learn her body.

Rose looks at him, calculating. "All right," she agrees. She sits up a bit, leaning against the thousands of pillows she has against her headboard. "A lot of it is left to instinct." She touches his face, her fingers trailing over his sideburn, down his jaw, and along his neck. He shivers at her feathery touches; small sparks travel down his spine. "I touch you where I think you'll like being touched." Her hand moves to his arm and she lightly drags her nails from his bicep down to his wrist.

"I like being touched everywhere by you," he whispers a bit drunkenly.

Rose smiles and teases the palm of his hand with a single fingertip, giggling when he shivers almost convulsively. "I'm the same. Having you touch me anywhere is divine."

He looks at her doubtfully and copies her motions, touching her face and neck lightly before trailing down her arm to her hand. He plays a finger over her palm before bringing her hand to his mouth. He brushes his lips over it so softly that she barely notices. He exhales quietly, kissing the center of her palm more firmly this time. Rose shivers now, her fingers clenching in pleasure the slightest bit.

"See, that was lovely." Rose is smiling at him, her eyes happy and droopy.

"Alright… But I doubt I could make you orgasm by doing that." Rose makes a small, doubtful hum as his breath teases her palm again. "Show me how to please you properly, Rose."

She takes one of his hands in hers and brings it to her breasts. Her fingers move to one nipple and she pinches it between her thumb and pointer finger. He goes to her other breast and hovers his finger over the pink pearl sitting atop it. He strokes his thumb over the tip, marveling in the way it puckers just the slightest bit more from his touch. Then he lets his pointer finger enclose Rose's nipple, squeezing it lightly.

Her hand comes over and she puts her two fingers over his, showing him how much force she likes. He copies her, liking the feel of her pebbled peaks against the pads of his sensitive fingers. Rose shivers as he moves on to her other nipple, and he guesses that she likes it as well.

He lays a kiss on the swell of one breast as he goes on teasing the other. His eyes dart up to Rose's and she nods.

"Just don't bite down too hard, yeah?" He nods. He doesn't intend to bite at all, anyway.

Instead he brushes his lips over her nipple, just barely grazing it. Rose shudders. His tongue peeks out and flicks at the pearl, taking in the feel of it. He finds that he quite likes it; tight, bundled, and obviously very sensitive to such touches. He repeats his actions before taking the nipple between his lips, cushioning it softly, and suckling subtly. Rose arches into his mouth and cards her fingers through his hair. He looks up at her and sees her smiling at him. He'd smile back if he weren't so occupied with the taste and feel of her skin against his tongue.

Rose tugs his head up, and he wonders if he's done something wrong. When she plants an enthusiastic kiss on his lips, he knows he hasn't. He pulls back and eyes the slightly reddened nipple he'd just been sucking. The look of it was arousing to say the least. To know he could sate his oral fixation on Rose's body…. Well, that was better than any lolly or jam flavored something-or-other that he normally puts in his mouth.

"I like this," he says frankly. She giggles and teases her fingers through his hair once more.

"I like it too."

He smiles, happy. "What about down here?" he asks, cupping her mons with his hand. Rose takes in a sharp breath and her hips do this cute little swivel thing against the sheets. She reaches down and puts her hand over his. Her fingers lightly shimmy between his and she shows him her most secret spot. It's warm and almost unbelievably soft. As Rose dips their fingers in a little more, he notices it's also quite wet.

A scent rises in the air. It's musky and a bit sweet and he finds himself liking it a lot. It is warm - home.

He touches her softly, his fingers curiously probing. Rose gasps and clutches his free hand, turning her face into his arm. Her breath is hot against his skin and he can feel her pulse as he touches her.

"Rose…" he starts.

"Yes?" she murmurs, resting her temple on the round of his shoulder as she looks up at him.

He's not quite sure how to word his anxieties, so he dives right in and hopes it comes out all right. "If I can't make you…. You won't fake it, will you?" He's stopped stroking her.

From his first experience, he remembers Sommer faking her orgasm. It was so obvious and quite a blow to his very fragile self-esteem. And despite all this talk about how he wants to please Rose, she is right. It will take practice. As much as he hates to admit it, he may not get it right away. He doesn't want her to fake to save his ego. He'd rather her tell him what to do, where to touch her, than to have her feign her pleasure.

Rose gives him a look full of compassion and kisses his shoulder. "No, Doctor. I won't fake it. You asked me to show you how to please me, and I'll respect that." Her fingers, the ones that are laced through his, disappear. "And having an orgasm isn't that important to me. Just being touched by you is comforting." She strokes her hand over his thigh and abdomen in calming motions. "Just being near you is comforting," Rose breathes against his arm, her eyes close in contentment.

With the knowledge that Rose will tell him if she's enjoying his ministrations, he moves his fingers just a little lower. Her breathing speeds up as he dips the tip of his middle finger into her.

"This alright?" he asks, circling her opening tentatively. Rose nods against his shoulder and hitches one of her legs over top of his so that they're lying next to each other with him reaching across her body, touching her most intimate area. He caresses the wetness he finds there, loving the silky texture of it against Rose's hot skin. His finger enters her again, curious. The warmth on the outside of her is nothing compared to the grasping heat he feels now. He shudders at the knowledge that this - Rose's tight-wet heat - is what is going to surround him.

He twists his wrist carefully, probing around with an inquisitive finger. The walls around him are slick and silken, giving to his light caresses. She feels like a comfortable place for him to burrow and forget about all his worries.

Rose moves her hand to his abdomen. She scratches her nails against his skin lightly before blindly reaching for his half-hard cock. He grunts and presses into her hand while sinking his finger further into her channel. Rose copies his motions, and her hips push up into his touches. It's sort of intense. The knowledge that he's giving Rose pleasure while she's giving him that gift right back makes him feel high.

When her thumb teases his tip, he can't take it anymore.

"Rose!" he gasps out. She stops teasing and looks at him. Her face is flushed – from his touches, he notes somewhat vainly – and her hips are making circles against the bedsheets. "Can we- I want to be inside you. If that's alright."

Rose nods and removes her hand from him. "How do you want to do this?"

He shakes his head, unsure. All he knows for sure is that he wants to feel her hot body around him.

"How about we do this." Rose pulls him until he's sitting upright. She slips a leg over his lap, straddling him. Her chest is pressed up against his and he can feel the heat radiating off of her body. "Is this alright?" she asks, cupping his face with one hand. He nods. He likes having her breasts against him. And this position – her body so close to his – feels sort of like a hug. Just a better hug.

"We don't have to use anything, right?" he asks. Rose frowns in confusion before his meaning registers in her brain.

"You mean condoms?" He nods. Rose shakes her head. "No. I'm on the pill. We're fine." She reaches down to guide him to her, but stops. "That's alright, right? You don't think your physiology is different or anything?" He shakes his head. The only thing he knows in this for sure in this universe is that his body his body is human.

Rose bites her lip and begins to sink down on him. The heat of her engulfs him and has him gasping even though only his tip is inside her. She pauses, unsure of whether he wants her to continue. He grinds out his assent, gripping her bum in his hands. She goes on, surrounding him slowly. Her body is hot, so hot, and wet and he loves the feeling of her. She grips at him unconsciously and he digs his fingers into her soft flesh.

When he is fully encircled, Rose wraps her legs around his waist. Her breasts are warm and her nipples are hard as her arms surround him.

"I love you," she whispers against his shoulder. He nods fervently and kisses her head. Having her so close like this is…. It's just gorgeous. She's gorgeous.

He unlocks his arms from their death-grip around her middle when she grunts in discomfort. He whispers an apology into her neck and trails a hand upwards, tangling it in her soft hair. Rose murmurs his name as she rocks against him. The feeling is unlike anything he's ever known. It's not quick and blinding like his earlier orgasm had been. The buildup is slower, sweeter and warmer. He could feel Rose's heart against his chest and the softness of her breasts. Her breath is hot against his neck as she cradles his body between her thighs. Her arms are tight around him, and he can _feel_ that she loves him.

"This alright?" Rose asks, pulling back enough to look in his eyes. He nods, bringing a hand to her face. His fingers stroke her cheek, and he leans closer to kiss her. Her lips brush his softly, her quickening exhalations teasing him.

Everything about this – about her – has him grasping at straws. The tightness surrounding him, the warmth of her right up against him… He feels that familiar heat sneaking up on him and scrambles internally. He doesn't want this to be over yet. Maybe he never wants this to end. He's never – in all his lives, Time Lord or otherwise – experienced something that made him feel so whole. It was like the love Rose felt for him was leeching into him through her skin, bleeding into the cracks and filling them in like caulk.

"I love you," he gasps out, kissing her head fervently as his hands stroke up and down her back, tracing her graceful spine with his shaking fingers.

"Love you, too." Rose looks up at him, her hazel eyes wide and bright. She's biting her lip and flexing her legs around his waist. The look of contentment and comfort on her face is enough cause for his body to hold out. He wants to feel her come; he wants to watch her. He wants to see those pretty eyes close in pleasure that he's caused and hear her whisper his name in exaltation.

He wants to love her until she cries tears of joy because he's showing her how much she means to him.

So he does just that. He steels himself and rocks into her a bit harder, angling his body so that he's nudging against that spot that seems to bring her so much pleasure. Rose's fingers dig into his skin, and he feels her gasp against his cheek.

"That good?" he asks. Rose nods, pressing kisses to his jaw as her breathing grows more labored.

"You're doing quite-," he cuts off her praise with a particularly hard thrust against that little button. Rose makes this noise that's a cross between a whimper and a gasp, and he loves it. Her body is moving against his with more urgency, and her arms – still tight around him – are trembling. The straws are falling from his grasp. If she doesn't come soon he's going to make a fool of himself again.

But thankfully, Rose does come.

And it's glorious.

Her breath catches against his neck, and her walls quiver around him. He tightens his arms around her and groans as he comes, thankful that he'd been able to hold out.

They cling to each other, pressing kisses to whatever skin they can reach. Rose is the first one to pull away. She doesn't go far, though. Her cheek presses against his, and he can feel her taking in deep breaths as her rib cage expands against his chest.

"That was the closet I've ever felt to another person," Rose says. She props her chin on his chest, her eyes serious as she looks up at him. "I've never felt more loved."

He swallows thickly and nods in agreement, tangling his fingers in her slightly sweaty hair. Nothing in his life has ever been so good. He's glad that she agrees.


End file.
